


I remember a ginger-orange colored hoodie

by ChicagosLights



Series: Rose colored scales [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Dragon AU, M/M, light injury descripton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChicagosLights/pseuds/ChicagosLights
Summary: Patrick's had years to get used to the ups and downs of being with a dragon: one of the biggest is that sometimes when Pete was in dragon form he couldn't always keep his instincts in control and sometimes good 'ol dragon possessiveness would cause Patrick a quick trip to a clinic. This time though maybe things are going to be fixed after all.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Series: Rose colored scales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117910
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	I remember a ginger-orange colored hoodie

It’s cold out, the snow has covered the ground and Patrick is reminded of some kind of a fairy-tale watching the small flakes fall down from the dark clouds above; currently he was sitting on their couch wrapped up in several blankets that he’d taken from his and Pete’s room and though he really knew he shouldn't have because of how upset Pete usually got (he’d actually snatch them away from Patrick even if he was using them though this resulted in Patrick refusing to get into the nest with him until he came back with the blanket and Patrick would let his boyfriend snuggle under with him) but he really liked watching the snowfall and since Pete was still out at the studio Patrick had decided to make himself comfy in the living room.

He can imagine Pete making some asshole joke about him relaxing and not doing anything, he’d probably take a small jab at the fact that Patrick looked like he was in a cocoon, and Patrick rolled his eyes with a fond smile because as much as his boyfriend would be a dick he was someone that understood how Patrick’s working habits were. Over the years the two learned each other pretty well, sometimes Patrick believed when Pete would talk about Cryptophasia between the two of them, at least until he got to the mushy gushy part of it being that they were soul mates and he would tell him to knock it off. Admittedly the dragon thing had been...a lot to handle but Patrick didn’t leave Pete, just because his friend was something from mythology didn’t mean he was going to run away like some terrified villager from an old story. 

Patrick hummed as he went to take a drink from his mug but frowned seeing all the coco was gone, time to go to the kitchen he guessed; he hummed something tuneless while pouring another cup and looking out the kitchen window, the more he thought about it he was getting a little worried that Pete wouldn’t be able to drive home.

_ He could fly if he wanted...he could just fly back in the morning after the roads have been cleared and drive home after work  _ Patrick looked at the tree in their front yard before deciding that maybe he should try doing something after all, worrying about Pete would be a little too much right now. 

As he made his way down the hall towards the studio in their house he stopped outside a door and stared at the brass handle; most people visiting their home (Joe, Andy, family) knew that inside were shelves filled with action figures and toys that were around when Pete was a kid, a closet filled with hoodies of different colors and fluffy textures, and the typical expected treasure hoard. Yep, Pete’s hoard was in that room and while he even said he considered Patrick part of it (and oh  _ that  _ had been a mess to explain since Patrick was still young and insecure of Pete’s love actually not being  _ love  _ and more so  _ lust)  _ he didn’t like it when someone was in there and he wasn’t home. 

Now look, he knows why; he knows it’s the whole dragon thing about being possessive of their items and such but sometimes when he was home alone and his brain wouldn't spit anything creative up he wanted to be near a piece of Pete, hence why sometimes he would go into the hoard room and just look at everything, maybe hug one of Pete’s hoodies, then hurry out even though he knew his boyfriend could smell he’d been in the room. It was unfair, he knew, because he’d set a rule for Pete that he didn’t want him stealing his clothes anymore or even guitar pics or something that he was going to end up needing because he didn’t like having to argue with Pete about getting it back but here he was sometimes going into the hoard room without Pete’s permission or supervision and though Pete never said anything during dinner or bedtime Patrick would say “im sorry”. Pete never got mad though, he’d just give a small shrug or a small knowing smile that looked laced with sadness and they’d snuggle; he kept saying he wouldn’t anymore but it wasn’t until recently Pete had said he knew why he did.

Because Patrick would get scared when Pete stayed out late.

Because Patrick was scared Pete would get into a fight with another dragon and maybe not come home.

And just like that, with those nasty thoughts in mind, Patrick had pushed open the door and found himself standing in the doorway; he reached over and felt along the wall until he found the lightswitch and flipped it on, the room was illuminated and all the colorful figures and closet door across the room came into view. He had a small smile on his face as he scanned the shelves of toys; He-man, Star Wars, Micro-Machines, TMNT, a big wheel in one of the corners of the room, lite-brite and garbage pail kids cards in bulky binders, a few Gizmo dolls and some transformer figures and so many other things but all of them were  _ Pete  _ and that was what Patrick needed right then. He wandered over to one of the shelves with an old weathered teddy Pete had had since he was small and carefully hugged it to his chest, old or not it smelled like Pete instead of something dusty and moldy (though it wouldn’t of course, Pete was adamant about his hoard being squeaky clean) and with a content sigh he placed it back on the shelf carefully. 

He went into the closet next, hugging the nearest hoodie to him and sighing at how soft it felt-wait a minute; Patrick frowned and let go of the hoodie save for the sleeve, it didn’t...okay so you can call Patrick a weirdo if you want but it didn’t  _ smell  _ like Pete, it almost smelled like some kind of fruity drink mixed with a cooler. Part of his mind told him not to ignore it like he was, that tiny voice was yelling that Patrick needed to take the weird not-Pete smell into account and that he needed to go shower because if a very tired Pete came home and smelled Patrick not smelling like him or familiar that there was going to be a big fight. Instead, like a total idiot, Patrick shut the closet door and turned off the light as he headed out of the room; maybe he could try messing around on GarageBand for a little bit-

Patrick felt the hair on his neck stand up, he barely had a second to register why when the sound finally happened-a nightmarishly loud hissing growl that would’ve made anyone piss themselves if they were in the woods and heard it-followed by something large coming into contact with his back and pinning him to the ground. He was glad there was carpet in the hallway, though that didn’t stop whatever possible bruises he was sure he was going to get, and whatever was now above Patrick let out another nightmarish sound. Pain was blooming through his chest and he wondered if there’d be deep bruises where his ribs were, he was however brought out of this thought as the clawed foot holding him down flipped him over and now he swore his ribs were broken. Sure enough golden eyes stared down at him with a look that showed Patrick wasn’t familiar and possibly a threat and that meant one thing; there was the chance Pete was going to hurt him which he hadn’t done since 2008 when another dragon had tried pinning Patrick to a wall at a venue and Pete had nearly murdered him or he was going to actually throw Patrick out into the snow. 

While Patrick was wheezing and hoping an asthma attack wouldn’t happen thanks to the mix of stress, fear, and Pete crushing him, it didn’t occur to him that there was a third option; said option became present when Pete let out a strange sound that Patrick couldn’t place if it was a growl or just some kind of monster noise, either way he made a disgusted shriek as Pete suddenly moved his head to lick Patrick’s stomach. What the hell was he doing- _ was he trying to scent Patrick?!  _ Okay, so normally Pete would just rub his face repeatedly against Patrick’s neck or sometimes wherever he wanted on his body and that would be enough, the problem though when Pete was full on dragon was that when he scented it resulted in Patrick covered in bruises and cuts along with saliva drenching him. 

Patrick whined and kicked at Pete’s jaws to try and make his tongue go back, hurting Pete never made him feel good but he’d rather his boyfriend had a sore tongue than the possibility of Patrick having a giant bloody bite mark anywhere on his body. His attempts were useless obviously, a human trying to push away a dragon wasn’t going to do shit and to Patrick’s disgust he soon found his shirt and most of his upper body was now slimey with spit and Pete’s teeth were starting to rip at the clothing, Patrick shrieked as he felt the hem of his jeans snag on sharp fangs and a tearing sound made him kick his leg all the way in Pete’s mouth; Patrick cried out in disgust and somehow, maybe the spit helped, wormed enough that Pete’s clawed foot slipped off him. Patrick didn’t waste any time hauling ass up and down the hallway, he slipped a few times due to the slobber all over him but he managed to round around the corner to where their house was small enough that Dragon Pete couldn’t reach him.

There was loud roaring down the hall mixed with screeching that Patrick understood to be distress and rage, well too bad Peter because Patrick might need to go to the hospital now due to the pain in his chest; Patrick running hadn’t helped any and the pain had reblossomed though now it seemed to spread up his shoulders and to his neck, he was wheezing and covered in fucking dragon slobber and there were a few cuts that were bleeding becasue of Pete’s fucking teeth. Ignoring Pete throwing a dragon-sized tantrum, Patrick headed to the bathroom with a limp-great, did that happen when he fell?- and shut the door; he probably should’ve listened to that little voice, he thought as he started the shower, too fucking late now.

* * *

After a hot shower, drying off, bandaging all his wounds and carefully while struggling at the same time to rearrange the pillows in a separate room he would sleep in sometimes when Pete and him got into fights and one of them needed somewhere to be alone, Patrick allowed himself to go completely boneless on the soft mattress. His chest was still aching and he genuinly worried if Pete had bruised his ribs-speaking of, it had sounded like Pete’s tantrum had quieted down...or there was the chance he went outside to take his anger out on something or fly around until he cooled off; Patrick sighed and pressed a hand over his eyes, he should’ve listened to that stupid inkling that something was off when he huggged the stupid hoodie, Pete doesn’t smell like that but nope he went and figured it was just his anxiety over Pete not being home. Well, hitting himself over the head for a mistake past Patrick made wasn’t going to fix anything, he was just going to have to take the hoodie out and wash it when Pete-wait...Patrick sat up, wheezed in pain, then stared at the door to the room.

Seconds ticked by before there was a tiny sound, it vaguely reminded Patrick of a scratching dog and the loud whimper following it furtherly convinced him maybe a large dog had gotten into their house; he debated for a few moments to be honest, Pete had hurt him and he might need to see if he had deep bruising. On the other hand when Pete was in dragon form his instincts were more likely to take over, 2008, 2013, and 2016 were the only times Pete had ever done this kind of scenting and each time he wasn’t aware of anything until he snapped out of it which usually resulted in Pete trying to isolate himself after seeing how he’d hurt Patrick. Right now though, the pawing at the door and whimpers turning to whines helped him decide he shouldn’t kick Pete out, they’d talk about it in the morning. 

“C’min” he called out, wincing at the resulting throb in his head. 

The door opened slowly and Pete hesitated before entering the room and shutting the door behind him; his head was down but Patrick knew he had been crying, behind him his wings twitched nervously and his tail was wrapped around his leg, when he finally looked up Patrick’s suspicions were confirmed seeing Pete’s eyes puffy and reddish with obvious tears still running down his cheeks. Patrick sighed, almost wheezing but catching himself, and held out his arms; Pete hesitated for a moment before walking over to the bed and crawling on it like a scared animal, once near Patrick he laid his head in his lap (not quite what Patrick thought would happen but he probably knew Patrick’s upper body was in pain) and proceeded to cry again. 

“Baby” Patrick cooed softly and comfortingly, he started to card his fingers through Pete’s hair but had to stop as his shoulder began to ache “baby please, it’s okay. Lay down with me, we’ll talk in the morning” 

Pete only whimpered and let out a scared croaking sound, he looked nervously at the bandaids on Patrick’s shoulder but seemed to decide that Patrick’s idea was a good once since he crawled next to the other and snuggled into his side.

* * *

The first thing Patrick wakes up to is a dull ache, the kind you feel after spraining a body part only in his chest, and the feeling of his shoulder being wet; shit, did they have a leak in the roof? That wasn’t going to be fun- oh, wait, leaks didn’t sniffle and sound like they’re struggling to cry quietly, in facts leaks couldn’t cry at all but an upset and self-hating dragon can. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and made some kind of sleep-sluggish sound to indicate that he wanted Pete to move, all that happened was another sniffle and the feeling of Pete’s balled up hands against his upper arm; Patrick sighed which turned into a pained wheeze, instantly Pete was sitting up and leaning over Patrick, looking down at him with concern and puffy red eyes. 

With a weak groan Patrick tried sitting up, instead he squeaked as Pete pulled him into his lap and pressed his face into the junction where Patrick’s neck met his collarbone; Patrick hissed through his teeth at the pressure, pushing at Pete’s shoulder until the dragon got the hint and moved Patrick so he was leaning against the headboard. He got off the bed and went over to the dresser, grabbed Patrick a clean pair of clothes and set them on before heading towards the door-

“ _ Hold it”  _ maybe Patrick shouldn’t have yelled-headache and Pete flinching-but they needed to talk “come here, Pete” 

He didn’t expect Pete to, he honestly expected him to try running away or making some stupid excuse, instead his boyfriend’s miserable form wandered back over to the bed and he laid his head back in Patrick’s lap again.

_ Whatever makes you comfortable  _ Patrick thought as he started to pet Pete’s head  _ huh, horns are gone, guess he can talk again.  _ “We need to talk”

There’s silence before Patrick hears a tiny sniffle “I hurt you again” 

“You did” Patrick sighed and pulled gently on a strand of hair, Pete barely moved his head enough for Patrick to see both eyes and it reminded him of a sad dolphin “but it wasn’t you, you’d never hurt me like that Pete”

He receives a frown and a hurt look that he’s starting to get annoyed with “but it’s me and I shouldn’t let go of control and fucking hurt my boyfriend”

Taking a deep breath, Patrick tangles a wad of hair in his hand and Pete gets the hint to sit up fast “Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, so help me you’re going to fucking listen to me because my ribs are hurting like hell. Under no circumstances would you ever hurt me that way, would you ever scare me like that, unless you aren’t in control of yourself. You’re a fucking dragon Pete, I knew what I was getting into when I became your boyfriend and again I’ll say it  _ that wasn’t you hurting me last night”  _

Pete’s face is miserable but when Patrick loosens his hold Pete nods “I went ...I smelled my hoard room and found...did you go in there while I was gone?” 

Now Patrick’s the one feeling guilty but he nods anyway “I was scared something happened to you Pete”

“I was caught up in the roads…” Pete shifted around and tried to lay his head down again but Patrick tugged his hair to make him sit up “I smelled something in my hoodie closet that didn’t smell right…and...and you know I’m really careful about washing my hoodies when I’m around other dragons but…” he trails off but Patrick already knows what he’s saying, this time he must’ve forgotten “and I didn’t realize who it was that I was smelling I just-I didn’t smell you and I was afraid and I tried hard to stay focused ‘Tricky I really did but-but my instincts happened and if I had-maybe if I tried harder to stay focused I would’ve known that it was...was another dragon I knew” god, Pete’s face was so miserable

Partrick only sighed and moved his hand to cup Pete’s cheek “no, none of that. You can’t always fight your instincts Pete, okay? Who’d you smell”

“Last-last week I went out with some friends remember? And I ran into G-Gabe…” Pete trailed off and a few tears slipped, Patrick realized he was looking at his chest and upon trying to look down and see why he was greeted with the sight of deep purple and faint yellow “and I-when I came home I was sort of drunk remember? And I didn’t-I told myself to throw the hoodie in the laundry but I forgot and you came and helped me and I asked you to put the hoodie away-”

“Hey, hey, breathe okay?” Pete was starting to trip over his words and the last thing Patrick wanted was Pete having an anxiety attack over them talking “baby you’re right, you were drunk and we could spend the whole morning thinking about the ‘what-ifs’ and the ‘maybe I should’ve done this’ but that’s the past, what happened last night was the past too, and we need to take me to a dragon clinic because if we go to a normal one then we’re going to have to come up with a lot of excuses” Patrick held Pete’s face in his hands and traced along his cheeks gently with his thumbs.

“It was an accident, okay? When we get back home you can throw it in the laundry so I don’t touch it and I keep smelling stinky like you and I’ll only pour the detergent” sure enough, the only joke made Pete crack a small smile “you’re gonna have to help me get dressed, these bruises hurt like fuck”.

* * *

After struggling to keep balancing while Pete helped him get his jeans on the two headed to the dragon-specific injuries clinic in town; the receptionist didn’t look too happy when she saw the bruises peeking out over the collar of Patrick’s shirt but she did make sure Patrick would get helped as soon as possible, Pete thankfully didn’t growl at any dragons that came walked by Patrick and only snuggled into his boyfriend’s side. When Patrick was called up the doctor that helped them- Dr. Smith-was very kind; Patrick had been to a dragon clinic maybe only 3 times but most of the time it was checking on Pete so seeing Dr. Smith ask Pete permission to touch Patrick and even having his boyfriend touch the gloves so they still smelled like Pete was kind of like an alien experience for Patrick. 

“Well Mr. Stump” Dr. Smith said slowly, even he’d winced at the bruises on Patrick’s chest “how are you with remedies? Ever taken one before?” 

“Um-” he hissed when Dr. Smith pressed firmly on his collar “fuck, that hurts. Uh, I did once? It was for sleeping though, I was really stressed out after a performance and Pete said his mom used to have him take it. It knocked me out right away but all I could taste was strawberries for until the next day” 

Dr. Smith snorted and looked over at Pete “can I talk with you for a moment please, Mr. Wentz?” 

That caught Patrick off guard, was he actually dying? Did Pete break some ribs and Patrick wasn’t aware of it and the Doc was basically saying “oh hey you’re boyfriend is gonna die soon”. Patrick sat against the wall waiting for the two men to come back, he kept trying to tell himself that the conclusions he was jumping to were absurd but well when anxiety takes the reins. His phone going off in his pocket made him jump and he let out a hiss, whoever just texted him he was going to-

**Gabe** :  _ so what’s the diagnosis? Broken ribs?  _

_ I should fucking come to your house and give you the same pain I’m feeling: _ **Patrick**

**Gabe** :  _ go ahead, I’d like to see you try. Honestly though I am sorry, you okay?  _

“Dick head” Patrick mumbled 

_ Yeah I’m fine, I don’t think there’s anything broken. Doctor and Pete are out in the hall talking right now:  _ **Patrick**

**Gabe:** _ did he recommend a remedy?  _

_ He asked about them, then he took Pete outside the room: _ **Patrick**

**Gabe** : _ he’s probably checking on what remedies will work. I can talk to Will about it when he gets home.  _

**Gabe:** _ sorry again about this whole mess  _

_ You and Pete were drunk, just next time maybe before getting drunk make sure the both of you get me or Will to pick you up: _ **Patrick**

  
  


The door opened as Patrick pocketed his phone again, Dr. Smith smiled and said he was all set to go and that he’d have someone deliver the remedy to their house. Patrick thanked him but it unnerved him a little that Pete had his head down and kept it down as they exited the clinic, what had the doctor said that had his boyfriend so deep in thought? And was it  _ good  _ thoughts or bad thoughts? Patrick was hoping the doctor had just slapped his wrist for Patrick getting hurt and that everything was fine. At a stoplight Pete finally reached over and squeezed Patrick’s hand, relieving some of his stress and Patrick let out a sigh of relief. 

“What’d you and Dr. Smith talk about?” he asked when they pulled into a drive thru for some quick lunch.

“Well he told me I almost permanently bruised your ribs and that I needed to learn better self control” Pete gave Patrick a small smile “he said you’ll be alright but you might not like the taste of this remedy so please don’t be mad at me” 

“It can’t be worse than a hamburger tasting like strawberries. Speaking of, Will might be stopping by with some remedies of his own, Gabe asked how I was doing” Patrick snorted a little at the annoyed sound Pete made “what else did Dr. Smith say?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home” 

Patrick frowned “what? Pete just tell me now”

“Uh-uh, besides we’re almost home” sure enough they were soon pulling into their driveway “c’mon, I’ll help you inside” 

“My legs are fine, Peter” Patrick rolled his eyes as Pete held his hand back to the house “just gimme my Subway and I’ll consider not hitting you over the head” 

“So mean” Pete pouted but set the food down on the coffee table before disappearing down the hall “you can start eating! I have to grab something” 

Patrick pouted a little but started eating his sandwich anyway, he was pretty sure Pete had gone to his hoard room-oh right, maybe he was throwing the hoodie in the wash? Well that could wait though, couldn’t it-

“So Dr. Smith mentioned how sometimes his husband would get the same way I would before they were married” Pete’s voice floats into the living room until he’s in view, Patrick presses his lips into a line wondering why he had his arms behind his back “and while I’m not saying ‘hey let’s get married now’ even though we basically are he mentioned that his husband kept something with him all the time so Dr. Smith’s dragon instincts wouldn’t kick in” 

“Pete, I love you but I’m not going to keep your scales in my pockets again, they kept falling out remember?”

Pete scowled “that’s not what this is about and I told you we could’ve put them in a locket or something. He said he gave his husband this bracelet thing he used to wear when they were dating so it already was scented by him ya know? So if his husband was around other dragons he always knew he was fine because he wouldn’t smell like the others...I’m not explaining this good am I?”

Patrick made a small ‘hmm’ noise “no I think...I’m pretty sure I get it? Basically Dr. Smith told you to give me something that smelled like you so even if I was around other dragons it wouldn’t trigger another freak out”

“Yes! But I know you don’t wear jewelry and I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to get you something shiny or flashy so um..I thought of this?” now Pete sat on the couch and held out a hoodie “I mean I have enough I figured…”

Patrick stared at it; he remembered seeing it once upon a time when the the orange was almost painfully bright and vibrant, now it had faded from years but he could still remembers all the times he and Pete had swapped between wearing it. Patrick hadn’t realized he’d been staring for a bit until Pete started to lower his arms, he glanced up to see obvious fear that it wasn’t as much of a good gesture as he thought; he was glad he finished his sandwich because like an idiot Patrick threw his arms around Pete’s shoulders and hugged him tightly, catching him off guard and causing Pete to get squished under Patrick.

“I love it and I love you” Patrick pressed a quick kiss to Pete’s cheek and crawled off him to allow him to sit up “I didn’t mean to stare like I didn’t like it Pete, I was just reminiscing” 

“Your reminiscing had me scared” Pete laughed nervously and moved the hoodie to Patrick’s lap “if you-if something shiny is better-”

“Pete no, I love the hoodie okay? Now shut up and eat your sandwich, I’m dreading whatever this remedy is going to taste like” Patrick punched Pete’s arm when he started laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> the remedy was basically take a handful of mints and shove them in your mouth  
> thank you to those who read this!


End file.
